This Ain't Your Daddy's Army of Darkness
by Dr Gonzo
Summary: A Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Lollipop Chainsaw xover- Xander's undercover work at San Romero High School is the stuff of nostalgia; zombies, the undead, and all.
1. Chapter 1

**This Ain't Your Daddy's Army of Darkness**

**Author**: B.H. Ramsay

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, and I claim nothing, which is what YOU'LL get if you sue me; nothing. Consider yourselves disclaimed.

**Rating**: Mature

**Dedication**: Thanks ever and always to Reikson and Drakependragon

**Summary**: Xander's undercover work at San Romero High School is the stuff of nostalgia; zombies, the undead, and all.

**Chapter One**

8

9

8

Like most teenagers, the kids of San Romero High School thought they were trapped in a living breathing Hell.

And between overdue homework, overamped hormones and and the Lord of the Flies atmosphere that predominates the average American high school campus, why not?

But San Romero High's newest teacher Xander Harris had a lot experience with such things.

He had not only grown up on the Mouth of Hell AND helped to save the world multiple times, but he'd survived high school while doing it.

So when he arrived one morning at San Romero High for another day of substitute teaching and found the place overrun with zombies on the lurching march, he didn't freak out the same way that so many other people there were doing.

No, he upshifted his car and aimed it right at a moaning zombie, slamming into the thing and pinning it to the side of a bus.

He shoulderolled out the door and grabbed the screaming jock that he'd just saved and slapped him hard to shut him up.

"Hey, what the fuck was that for?!" the young quarterback sputtered.

"I'm sorry, did you **not** just see the zombie about to rip a chunk outta your throat?" Xander snapped, jabbing a finger at the bus and its undead… victim, still thrashing wildly trying to reach them.

Johnny Football Hero gapped disbelievingly. "That's a zombie... that's a real freaking zombie." He whimpered.

Xander snorted, "Welcome to the real world Junior," he muttered, "Head for the school, grab anyone you find, and take 'em to the shop class."

"The shop class?" he sputtered indignantly.

"Don't argue with me, just go!" Xander snarled, shoving the jock forward. He waited until he was alone before opening up his car trunk and pulling a fire axe from it.

When he got to the snarling zombie, it kept on reaching for him with its decayed hands, and the demon hunter sighed wearily.

"I wish there was more I could do for you, kid." Xander mused. "But like the movie says; sometimes dead **IS** better." A single decisive swipe through the air later, and the zombie's skull was promptly split in twain down to the nose before he yanked the blade out and quickly cut its head off for good measure.

Reaching into the car trunk, he pulled out a high-powered crossbow. Slapping a repeater chamber into the body of the modified weapon, he marched out the middle of the lane and grinned broadly. For all that Andrew was obsessed with movies, even crappy ones, he occasionally had decent ideas.

For instance, there was the automatic crossbow from that 2004 _Van Helsing_ movie starring Young Wells' man-crush; Hugh Jackman. After he'd seen the movie, Andrew had managed to whip up a fully-functional design that had saved a lot of lives.

Then he heard another scream, and turned to see a cheerleader running for her life.

The girl was running from a crowd of zombies that were staggering towards him, howling and snarling.

He grabbed the frenzied student and slung her bodily behind the protection of the car as he fired into the crowd with his crossbow hand.

As the crossbow quarrels flew through the air, the undead began to fall as he carefully picked off each revenant with a well-aimed shot to the head. Rapid-fire was no good in this situation, after all.

When the repeater chamber clicked empty, he quickly replaced it with another from the trunk, but the fiends kept coming for them and were relentless, as undead hordes of Hell tended to be.

The cheerleader, the poor kid, was of absolutely no help at all. As if she agreed with him, she whimpered miserably and whined, "We're gonna die, aren't we?"

"Somebody's gonna die, anyway." Xander growled, furious at the body count. Reaching into his car trunk again, he pulled out a large plastic can and tested its weight.

The car's extra fuel can, to be used only in dire emergency. Of course when you've grown up on a Hellmouth, your definition of emergency grew to include stuff the Auto Club couldn't begin to understand.

He could hear fuel sloshing around inside and smirked, knowing just what exactly he had in hand, before giving it a hard toss.

As the canister flew through the air, he peppered the container with bolts from the repeater crossbow and watched as its pyric contents sprayed out and doused the revenants shambling towards him.

Once he was certain that the zombies were properly soaked in accelerant, he set off a road flare, tossing the burning ember at the crowd. With no small amount of satisfaction, he watched as the shambling crowd went up in flames.

A few stubborn zombies continued to advance, but Xander was done playing nice.

"You might wanna get clear of the car, kid," he murmured and the girl nodded frantically, scrambling to hide behind him as he slowly moved towards his car.

Tossing another road flare into the car's gas tank, he managed to leap clear as a mighty roar heralded a shockwave that threw him and the girl to the ground. Billowing orange flames and shrapnel hurled through the air, taking out what few zombies that remained upright and moving, as the car's burning hulk flipped through the air end-on-end before crashing down upon the ground and crushing several more zombies nearby.

The girl stared up at him. "Who… **are** you?" she asked him softly, not expecting an answer.

"Xander Harris. I'm the substitute shop teacher." As if to accentuate the fact that he was lying through his teeth, the school bus that he'd t-boned earlier now exploded behind him, making him flinch reflexively.

"Shop teacher?"

"Mm-hmm," he nodded sagely, glancing at his watch. "Last I checked, it's after nine am, which means that you should be in class."

"You're telling me to go to class now?!" she shrieked indignantly. "After everything that's happened?! With all these mondo-icky zombies on the loose and munching on people?!"

"Yeah, I am," he nodded, picking up his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulder before reaching for his axe. "If I were you, I'd go for the shop classrooms. They're way more defensible, and right now, defensible is good."

The girl turned to stare at the still burning bodies of the restless dead, looking unsure.

"Hey, yesterday your biggest problem was if you'd get caught cutting class," the Scooby hissed, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him directly. "Today, you just survived being ripped apart by zombies. Do what I say, **when** I say it, and I promise you that you'll live long enough to find out what happens to you tomorrow."

The girl nodded and ran for the school building. Xander waited until she was well on her way in, before following her into the school.

Whatever survivors were still alive would be fleeing in all directions, hoping to find some kind of safety. He'd have to round them up and barricade them somewhere safe soon, and was hoping that he didn't have to call Riley for help.

Involving the US government in something like this meant nothing good, especially since they'd put a priority on containing the zombies even if it meant nuking the town of San Romero off the map and trying to find a way to cover it up.

But with smart phones being commonplace, and social media websites everywhere on the Internet, he didn't think that this incident could be kept classified and away from the public eye. At least, not for very long.

Xander sighed. He'd come to the local High School following rumors of suspicious Internet activity that had been tracked back to San Romero, California.

Someone had been doing some deep digging on Google, looking for bad mojo, and their search words had set off Willow's online monitoring alert worms.

Alarm bells had really started ringing when someone in San Romero had successfully bid for some of the most powerful and nastiest dark magic grimoires from E-Bay .

For his part, Xander had been hoping to head off any trouble **BEFORE** it mutated into the chaos currently surrounding him.

But he shrugged fatalistically. Zombies were a bad sign, but not a deal breaker.

It might still be possible for him to put the brakes on this Apocalypse in the making.

"Starting to wish I'd taken the girls up on the offer for back-up," he sighed. "Dealing with this all on my lonesome looks like it's gonna be tough."

As fate would have it, Xander wasn't going to face San Romero's zombie hordes alone.

If he'd just stayed outside a little longer, Xander would've seen a pretty teenage girl in a cheerleader outfit hacking and slashing her way through the zombie hordes with a rainbow-painted chainsaw.


	2. Chapter 2

** This Ain't Your Daddy's Army of Darkness **

**Chapter Two**

**When Xander met Juliet**

Xander dashed down a hallway, sliding to a stop just as an undead fiend reached a screeching sophomore.

Xanders shoes literally screeched as he skidded to a stop unleashing his crossbow and lining up the weapon's sights.

Crossbow bolts tore into the undead thing's head

"Move!," the scooby yelled, "don't stop running till you reach the shop classes. "

The student nodded and run for the safety of the barricaded classroom.

The scene had repeated itself all morning long. Finding students and teachers in peril. Rescuing them from certain death,; rinse and repeat.

San Romero High's warm bodies had almost no sense of self preservation.

"You kids wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in the 'Dale." Xander grumbled to himself as he heaved a sigh.

He tried to ignore how old saying that made him feel. "At this rate," he thought to himself, "I'll be wearing tweed and polishing my glasses by the end of the day."

He heard the roar of a chainsaw. "Great," Xander sighed, "bad enough someone turned the campus into Day of the Dead, now I've got Texas Chainsaw Massacre on my hands. "

As Xander ran to the rescue, he heard yelling and cries of pain.

Rounding the corner however, he found not the chainsaw wielding maniac he'd been expecting but a chainsaw wielding teenage girl cutting zombies in two while executing a move that ex-cheerleader Buffy would have recognized as a textbook arial cartwheel.

Xander marvelled at her speed, at her agility, at the fact she'd somehow, in defiance of God and nature, turned THE most manly of power tools into a ladies fashion accessory.

That the chainsaw had been painted in bright day-glo colours was bad enough but she'd taken things to the unholy extreme by accessorizing the power tool with cellphone carrier and a Hello Kitty charm for God's sakes.

The thing that had him gagging however was clipped to the cheerleader's side like some gaudy coin purse; a boy's severed head.

He recognized the boy as one Nick Carlyle.

He and his too cool for the room jocks had been a problem during Xander's first couple of shop classes until the Scooby found a way to cool their jets.

A little game of William Tell using bows and arrows he and the students hand-assembled during classtime had the combined effect of getting his stubborn charges to pay attention and win over the rest of the non-jocks in his class.

Xander watched with fascinated eyes as the girl lauched the grisly trophy through the air.

It landed on the shoulders of a headless zombie. The zombie turned on its fellows and Xander realized despite his being just a head, Nick was still very much alive; alive and apparently possessing the ability to control any headless corpse to which his bodiless head became attached.

He recognized the cheerleader as well. The way-too bubbly Captain of San Romero High's cheerleading squad, and the middle daughter of a family with the strangest penchant for getting into trouble and earning a reputation for it in the process.

She finished off another zombie and turned to look at Xander.

"Juliet Starling?"

Xander saw her eyes widen in a way he remembered all too well from too many nights in Sunnydale. Xander didn't even pause to look, firing blind over his shoulder.

The undead who had been coming up behind Xander screeched, writhing around wildly.

Xander pulled his axe, shearing off the fiend's head with a single blow.

Juliet blinked at Xander. "You...know how to fight zombies?" The cheerleader asked.

"What's to know?" Xander replied, "cut off the head, failing that cut off the limbs and extremites. Follow that up with a good burning if you can manage it. In extreme cases shatter and scatter the bones."

Juliet blinked, "Aren't you the Shop Teacher? "

"Substitute shop teacher. " Xander answered with a smirk.

8

9

8

**Don't Stand So Close To Me**

It's weird how love finds you.

I mean; today's my eighteenth birthday, and this morning, I totally thought that my biggest worry was if the love of my life would love my family as much as I love him.

But now?

Well, it's not that I love Nick any less or anything… but the new Shop teacher's, like, _**so**_ the bomb.

Even better, he totally knows about zombies and magic and junk.

I mean, most people would be majorly wigging out in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

Mister Harris, on the other hand? Totally chillaxed.

Oh, wait.

It's Xander.

Isn't that like the coolest name ever? Xander?

"You know, Juliet, I don't want to sound like some jealous boyfriend or anything, but what the fuck?! You're _**totally**_ perving on the shop teacher. A shop teacher, for Chrissakes!"

See, this is what I'm talking about.

Nick's a teenage boy; he doesn't get how men and women can have like a totally mature relationship that doesn't involve funny stuff.

…not that I'd be opposed to funny stuff…

So I ignore Nick and hope the shop guy doesn't totally get all bummed out, thinking I'm all little miss girly-girl.

"What are you doing, Mister Harris?"

He looks at me with that whole world-weary look that lets me know he's seen it all and could tell me stories and junk and we'd hang out and…

"…just calling in a quick favor, Julie," he quips, smart-phone in hand as he flashes me that _**totally**_ sexy lopsided grin of his.

He asks to talk to someone named Willow...probably some new age flake who doesnt eat meat and lisyens to too much Indigo Girls; bet she's totally a boring vegan.

I can't hear what this Willow person on the other end of the phone is saying, but it's upsetting Mister Harris.

"Yeah, Will, it's like you thought. Some emo-Goth Marilyn Manson-wannabe down here got his hands on that major black mojo you've been monitoring, things are going bad."

More talking before a snort from Xander, "You're seriously asking ME to define bad?" He rolls his eye. "I'm looking at a would-be Night of the Living Dead here right now. I'm talking full-on _Resident Evil_ minus the ridiculous backstory."

He frowns as the woman on the other side starts talking. Willow's probably some super-ancient skank who totally doesn't get Mister Harris' depth of character.

"Oh, please, I've actually _**seen**_ Romero, unlike **some** people I could name," he scowls, his knuckles whitening. "I've got most of the surviving students barricaded in one of the classrooms with one of my emergency grab-bags. Plus, I'd rather not call Riley for help."

Some more squawking on the other side later and he shrugs. "You'd be surprised at what they let substitute shop teachers get away with here. _**Totally**_ not like Snyder at all. Sorta like Sunnydale High back in the day."

I vaguely remember hearing about Sunnydale; some town that collapsed into a gigantic sinkhole about a month before I turned nine. I remember my dad totally freaking out when he saw a news report about it, which is probably why he'd initiated me and Rosalind into the family business of fighting the undead and killing evil demonic douchebags who wanna destroy everything good about Earth.

I try and get his attention, and I swear the whole leaning forward to make my chest stand out thing is totally an accident.

"Okay, first you chop off my head and then you start hitting on the shop teacher?!" Nick squawks at my hip, and I wince.

I could've gotten away with sawing off his left forearm in order to save his life, but I got a little overenthusiastic and had to use the family spell Yorick's Embodiment to keep him from dying. But this whole jealousy thing's _**so**_ not worth the drama.

"Nick, I'm _**so**_ not hitting on him." I roll my eyes. "We're just, you know, talking and all that junk. Is it my fault that we can relate on a more, like, mature level?"

Mister Harris looks at me with that look of pain that makes him look even more scrumptious.

"Listen, I could use some help down here," he says into the phone instead. "One of the kids down here, he's become a talking head."

Whatever Miss Skank says next totally pisses Mister Harris off.

"No, it's _**not**_ funny, Willow," he snarls. "One of the students here is a Starling."

A brief exclamation, and he nods. "Yeah, _**those**_ Starlings," he growls. A beat later, he adds, "Yes, I remember what the Winchester brothers told us. And no, I don't care."

He's defending me and my family and all I can think is how totally cool the name Juliet Harris sounds.

Mrs. Juliet Harris… well, okay, it'd really be Mrs. Juliet Harris-Starling, 'cause, like, I'm totally a modern woman and junk?

So I don't need to take a man's name, even if it's totally dreamy.

He glances at me and then does a double-take.

"On second thought… you might wanna get down here, pronto. Seems the situation's getting… a little too Nabakov for my comfort."

Now I have no idea what he's talking about. That's the one thing about him that kinda turns me off; when he gets all secretive and junk when we both know that he shouldn't because there's nothing between the two of us that we need to hide anymore.

Besides, why worry about some Russian hockey player at a time like this?

"Stop it, Willow, this isn't funny." He's clenching his teeth. "...And if you have to sing THAT song could you at least sing the classic version and not the remix."

I hear laughter coming from the phone and Mister Harris… no, wait, he said that I could call him Xander, hangs up on her and snarls in Klingon the same way my dad does sometimes when he's trying to fix the car after another one of Rosalind's accidents.

Okay, so he's a Trekkie and a self-described lover of geekdom, but nobody's perfect.

8

9

8

Xander sighed deeply, looking over at young Juliet Starling and repeated the words that had become a mantra against possible stupidity of the fatal kind.

'She's eighteen,' he growled to himself, wanting nothing more than to slam his head against the nearest convenient wall and drive these ridiculous thoughts into unconsciousness.

'She's smoking hot, **and** legal in some states including Californa.' Little Xander reminded him.

'She **has** a boyfriend.'

'…who's mostly just a talking head.'

'She's got an overprotective family, their distant aunt Clarice included. Remember her?'

"Her sisters are just as ridiculously hot as she is...including the jailbait."

'She fights with a giant chainsaw. End of discussion.'

'Okay, _**THAT**_ could be a problem.' Little Xander grumbled.

"What kind of a teacher are you, again?" Nick asked suspiciously.

"You know...Shop Teacher… sorry, industrial arts," Xander replied evasively, "that's what they call it right? Industrial Arts?"

Juliet and Nick watched as Xander pulled a large and intimidating looking axe from a caverous tote bag. He set the weapon on a nearby desk.

"A shop teacher… who's a zombie hunter?" The jock's tone screamed lack of belief; understandable.

"Technically, zombies are more of a sideline for me and my friends," the one-eyed teacher shrugged, fiddling with some stuff that he'd snatched from the chem labs. "We're more into vampires and demons."

"Vampires?" Nick snorted in spite of himself.

"What, you don't believe in vampires?" Xander asked.

"I'm a bodiless head fighting zombie hordes and somehow able to talk," Nick snarled. "I think it's safe to say that I'm over the whole 'don't believe in the supernatural world' jazz."

"You're being _**so**_ understanding, Nick." Juliet gushed, while still making doe eyes at Xander.

Nick couldn't see how the shop teacher reacted, but clearly heard the guy muttering under his breath. Something about chainsaws, barely-legal teenage girls and how he wasn't like some guy named Angel.

"So what's with the old Asian guy I've seen hanging around you?" Xander changed the subject.

"Morikawa-sensei?" Juliet gushed. "He's _**totally**_ the greatest. He helps me train every day to be a kickass zombie hunter."

"He trains you every day." He deadpanned, and Nick instantly realized where the one-eyed teacher was going with his line of questioning.

"Uh-huh." Juliet nodded, she was so enthusiastic that she was practically jumping in place.

"…and this training regimen consists of a lot of cartwheels, backflips, and the wearing of skimpy outfits, right?" Xander asked carefully.

She shrugged. "Sensei Morikawa says that I have to be in peak form and that I should always train in clothes that I find comfortable."

"...And by comfortable clothes you mean..."

"My zombie fighting panties with the little teddy bears; Morikawa-sensei's favourite."

Xander looked at her before slapping his forehead. "Oh, honey…" he sighed.

"Well, at least he isn't some skeevy demon hunter pretending to be a shop teacher." Nick snapped, jealousy evident in his voice. Juliet flushed red, wanting to die of embarrassment.

"Nick, I **AM** a certified carpenter and contractor." Xander grunted. "The only reason that I don't work in construction anymore is because I lost my eye and shot my depth perception all to Hell."

"…who's pretending to be a teacher," the bodiless jock pointed out.

Xander got up, walked over to Juliet and pulled out a small card with a picture on it, which he then held in front of Nick's face. "Oh, I've got teaching accreditation.

Shrugging at Juliet, he added, "The certificate actually says that I can only teach classes in which I'm an expert, which I am at swimming, anthropology, ancient languages, and the carpentry trades."

No need to mention his accreditation came from a website that'd give you a fully legal certificate as long as you had thirty bucks and a valid state driver's license."

"You know ancient languages? So cool." Juliet gushed; all but throwing herself at him and making him wince. "You must be, like, the smartest guy ever."

"Bet he doesn't know what that idiot Swan was saying." Nick sneered.

"Actually, I do." Xander grimaced. "The words he used were Latin, but it's a very generic evocative dedication."

"What do you mean?"

"Spells like the one Swan _**claims**_ he's doing? They need answering spells from multiple sources, with a number of people reading different parts of the incantation. But as far as I can tell, this idiot's working this dark mojo all alone."

"Except for those Dark Pervy dudes he unleashed." Juliet groaned.

"Dark Purveyors, Juliet." Nick corrected.

"There's nothing else for it," Xander sighed. "Those purveyors must be part of the ritual somehow."

Xander shouldered his bag-o-tricks and flashed a rakeish smile at Juliet and the scowling Nick.

"Ok zombie hunters," he quipped, "let's kill us some zombies."

8

9

8

The trio tracked the first of the Dark Purveyors, a mohaked screeching annoyance calling homself Zed, to a junkyard where. Xander watched mutely impressed as Juliet made dodging junked cars as they were thrown at her _look easy. _

Zombie Zed's forces were surprisingly easy to keep at bay while Juliet battled the demented wannabe rocker. Of course, liberal use of blunt-force trauma also helped a great deal.

As Juliet avoided another attack, Xander finished off the last of the Zed's minions with a pipe bomb that he'd cobbled together.

"Shit, old man," Zed wailed dramatically. "Takin' out my boys like that is totally uncool."

"Hey, the '80s called!" Xander yelled back, having developed an absolute loathing of punk rock after his experiences with Spike. "They want me want to burn all my Henry Rollins records! Well, that is, if I actually owned any Black Flag records anyway!"

"Does anybody actually **OWN** a Black Flag record?" Nick called from Juliet's hip, twisting the knife even further.

"I'm gonna wail on your dusty ass just as soon as I'm done with this whore cheerleader," the spiked mohawk-sporting punk-rocker zombie snarled as his attacks hurled Juliet away.

"He's too fast, Mister- I mean, Xander." Juliet whined. When she happened to look over at Xander, her eyes widened in shock at his spasmodically-clenching fists.

"What did you call her?" Xander snarled softly. Juliet and Nick could both hear the icy and murderous menace in his voice.

Zed didn't seem to notice. "I called her a whore," he sneered. "All cheerleaders are whores, everybody knows that. Haven't you ever gotten a taste of sweet cheerleader a-"

Juliet didn't even see Xander raise and fire his repeating crossbow, nailing Zed in the mouth with a lucky shot that severed his spine at the base of his skull.

The zombie screamed hoarsely around the bolt in his mouth as he fell to the ground, barely able to talk and completely paralyzed.

"Okay, one? You talk too much." Xander said, way too casual for the current situation.

A bolt to the chest later, and Zed was now pinned securely to the floor. He hadn't stopped his muffled screaming around the crossbow bolt in his mouth once during Xander's brutal display of violence.

"Two, running around and screaming your head off all the time only makes you look like a grade-A douchebag," the one-eyed man added, firing another crossbow bolt that nailed Zed below the belt and made him howl.

"…and, three? Never. **Ever**. Badmouth cheerleaders around me."

Nick grimaced at the sight. "I don't even have balls anymore and that hurt," he moaned.

Xander ignored the decapitated jock. "Hey, Julie, you got this?"

"Totally!" the cheerleader squealed, letting her chainsaw carve the punk-rocker zombie apart.

As his body fell, Xander heard words being whispered as Zed's body dissolved. A short string in Latin that was _**way**_ too generic for this sort of black magic ritual.

Xander watched as Juliet had a last tender encounter with Sensei Morikawa, and he was pretty sure the dirty old man was checking out her rack even as he breathed his last.

When the cheerleader rose from the body, Xander heaved a sigh. "One down, four to go."

"Thanks for the help," Juliet whispered, looking up at him.

Xander flinched at the girl's starry-eyed look. Things were already complicated enough between him and Dawn without her finding out he had some eighteen-year-old girl crushing on him.

"What you did… that was amazing, Xander."

"Well, that's one word for what just happened, yeah," the former construction worker noted blithely.

"You looked a little scary there." Nick murmured, watching Xander with cautious eyes.

"Two of the bravest and most incredible women I ever knew were on Sunnydale High School's cheer squad," Xander shrugged. "Trust me, if Mister Punk-Rocker Wannabe over there had tried talking smack about Juliet around either of them, they'd have done worse to him than just shooting him in the nuts.

"So we kicked zombie ass." Juliet declared.

Xander nodded, "Hopefully with some outside help we can crack the code and figure out what Swan's endgame is before he makes his big play. "

"Zombies are running around killing everybody," Nick snorted, "I can't imagine how the playing could get any bigger. "

Xander shuddered as he recalled so many days and nights on the Hellmouth.

"No offence Nicky, " Xander muttered, "but I envy your lack of imagination. "


	3. Chapter 3

**This Ain't Your Daddy's Army of Darkness**

8

9

8

**Chapter Three: Thirty-One Flavors of Pain**

Xander had to admit; chasing after a flying Viking ship was kinda different. Still, considering Zombie Viking Guy could send down lightning strikes like artillery barrages, you had to think that maybe taking him down should be a priority.

Heaving a sigh as the last of his attackers fell, he turned to Juliet.

She was surrounded by zombies but seemed to be doing well against them.

Xander was about to lend a hand anyway when his phone rang.

It was Buffy on Skype. "Kinda in the middle of something," he said casually, decapitating some random zombie mook.

"So I hear," the Slayer shot back. "Willow says you're fighting zombies with a Starling."

"She's good. Got an odd style about her, but she's pretty good."

"Yeah, I'll be the judge of that. Show me."

"Show you?"

"Show me." Buffy insisted.

Xander shrugged and turned the phone's camera to where Juliet was fighting, and winced as she took out the crowd of undead surrounding her with a deadly combo move.

"Xander?" the blonde Slayer seemed way too calm.

"Yes?" he shot back, mimicking a supercilious French waiter that had waited on him in Lyon.

"Did I just see that girl combine martial arts and ...cheerleading moves?"

He shrugged even though she couldn't see him. "Well, **I've** never seen pompoms used quite so… tactically before."

"I wonder if that would work on a vampire?" Buffy mused.

Xander tried to imagine Buffy using pompoms to take down the Master or Glory. He stopped imagining when his mind turned to thoughts of Angel, Spike and cheerleader Buffy fresh from practice looking so hot and sweaty in that cute Sunnydale High Cheerleading uniform…

"No, no. Bad Xander, bad," he chided himself. "No dirty thoughts. Especially ones that involve Angel in a shirtless capacity."

Juliet danced and cartwheeled through the zombie horde making julienne chunks out of rotten flesh.

"Nice combinations," Buffy commented. "Good form. She knows how to work multiple levels."

"…and a weapons form," Xander added. "She's pretty handy with that chainsaw."

As if to prove his point, Juliet ran at another zombie and slid under its grasping arms before driving her chainsaw's roaring blade up through the fiend's decaying body, tearing it apart.

"She's good." Buffy observed. "You said she's team captain?"

"Team's been to the nationals a few times," he confirmed, letting her watch Juliet in action. "Never won, apparently, but-"

"Of course they aren't gonna WIN. All the judges are from Bible belt schools. They think all the girls from the coasts are giant skanks."

He recognized Buffy's tone of voice. "Buffy, let it go," he said calmly. "Every time we have this talk, you get upset and Willow and I have to have a Baskin and Robbins intervention to calm you down."

A note of hysteria crept into Buffy's voice. "If we could have just had one year without insane witches, demon mayors, or squad members bursting into flames…"

"Buffy, you've saved the world repeatedly," Xander reminded her calmly. "Do you **really** have to be America's Cheerleading Goddess, too?"

By now, Juliet had finished cutting down the zombie horde and walked over to Xander. "Who're you talking to?"

"A friend," Xander shrugged. "Buffy's just checking in to make sure I'm on my best behavior."

"Buffy Summers?" Juliet gushed. "You mean, you know her? Like, for reals?"

"You've heard of her?"

"Well, duh, who hasn't? She's a legend on the cheerleading circuit." Juliet chirped cheerfully. "Amber Grove runs this cheerleader boot camp thing near Napa Valley, and she teaches all this cool stuff about being a cheerleader. **Tons** of the best squads from across the entire **country** go to her now, and she tells all these **awesome** campfire horror stories about cheering on the Sunnydale squad."

"Amber? That bitch!" Buffy shrieked through the phone. "After I totally smothered the flames when she spontaneously combusted!"

"Wait, you mean that actually happened? She wasn't making that up?" Juliet blinked. Very carefully ignoring the phone display and giving Xander a furtive wink, she added deliberately, "Is it true that Buffy got totally high before practice one day and acted like a total spaz?"

"Spaz?! That was NOT me spazing. That was a witch's curse!" Buffy snarled, and Xander could barely keep himself from laughing. "Put her on the phone, Xander. Put her on, **right now**."

Xander looked at Juliet, then at the phone, and then shrugged. "Yeah, I don't think so." And disconnected the call.

He'd pay for it later, but Buffy totally losing her head was a rare treat.

"Is she okay?" Juliet asked, concerned.

"Ah, Buffy will be fine. Nothing a tub or two of Rocky Road ice cream won't fix," he shrugged.

"Eww, how does she avoid getting a ginormous butt? I totally stress about my lollipop addiction."

Xander thought about explaining the whole mystical enhanced metabolism that Slayers had going for them. But looking at the barely-legal teenage girl, who had maybe ten percent body fat if she was lucky, worrying about candy making her fat…

Well, he figured that his time and efforts might be better spent actually hunting down their quarry.

"Your friend's kinda cute." Nick commented.

"Normally you wouldn't be her type,"Xander replied, "but Buffy likes drama and decapitated talking head pretty much buries the needle on the drama meter."

He couldn't help noticing the wistful look on Nick's face and apparently neither did Juliet.

Juliet snorted, "Nick, she's almost thirty, that's like ancient in cheerleading years, She's probably some icky cougar." The cheerleader replied with a catty sneer.

Xander choked off the harsh bark of laughter that threatened to explode out of him at Juliet's comment.

"Come on zombie hunters, " Xander chuckled, "let's go kill us some undead douche-bags. "

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**When Xander met Cordelia…**

Soon enough, Xander had a whole new problem to worry about. Namely, the cute blonde with a sniper rifle who dropped unceremoniously into the room.

"Cordelia!" Juliet cheered.

Xander had heard of Cordelia Starling, of course. Dean Winchester had described their one-night stand in graphic detail.

"Hey, sis," Juliet gushed. "This is the new Shop Teacher, Xander. He's been **totally** helpful with us getting this far."

"Really?" Cordelia purred. "What's a cute dude like you doing in a place like this?"

Nick snorted. "I'd say he was totally c-blocking me if I still had a…" The pitiful look on his face spoke volumes.

"Nick, quit being such a bummer and say hi to my sister." Juliet chirped, swiveling herself around. Xander got to watch the oldest Starling girl poke and prod the talking head for a while, much to Nick's indignation.

His phone rang and he answered.

"Hey, Willow, how's Buffy?"

The redhead sighed. "She's at two pints of Neapolitan and counting."

Xander groaned. "Has she brought out the _Bring it On_ DVDs yet?" By mutual unspoken agreement, Buffy never mentioned it within earshot of Faith.

"She's doing technical commentary as we speak. Just so we're clear, I blame you for this."

He just rolled his eye. "Neapolitan is a good sign. Rocky Road is worrying, and Heavenly Hash means that we have a problem."

"We'll see. In the meantime, I scanned that video you sent of the cheerleader taking down the punk rock wannabe."

"What did you find?"

"The stuff he said after she cut him down? It was like you said; a generic Latin evocation. Giles is running it through the databases. Could you get us more to work with?"

Xander looked up and saw that the flying Viking ship that he'd seen earlier was back, with one of the Dark Purveyors guys at the helm.

"I think I might have a little more video for you in a bit."

Juliet ran at her sister who propelled her into the sky with a carrying throw so she could snag one of the ship's trailing sail lines.

Xander tied a rope to a loaded crossbow bolt that he was using, even as Cordelia sauntered over to him.

"So now that my sister and cute headguy are gone, how's about you and me get to know each other?"

Xander snorted. "What, you think I'm gonna rock the eye patch and **not** take advantage of a perfectly-good chance to play pirate?" he quipped. "Besides, I should probably stick with Juliet in case she needs help."

"Juliet can take care of herself." Cordelia ran her fingers through his hair. "Ah, you're nervous. Why?"

"Dean Winchester kinda kissed and told," he admitted, slumping.

"Really? And what did he say?" Cordelia was advancing like a panther.

"Some kind of weird morals charge involving improper use of livestock and produce down in Tupelo, Mississippi."

Cordelia smiled in wistful memory. "Mm, that **was** fun. Even funnier, five state troopers kicked down the door and arrested us. You should've seen the looks on their faces. I mean, we'd have been fine, but little crybaby Dean's kind of a screamer and made too much noise. Besides, most of what we did is technically legal in California."

Xander grimaced, unable to help himself. "While we're on that subject, I've always wanted to ask; I know why the goat was there. I even get **WHY** you needed a goat, but **WHAT** was the pineapple for?"

"I could give you a demonstration…" Cordelia mused leadingly, running a gloved hand down his chest.

Xander shook his head. "No way. The last time I let a girl named Cordelia drag me into doing weird stuff, it-" then he paused in fond recollection. "Huh. Actually, it worked out pretty well, all things considered."

"So is that a yes?"

Xander shook his head. "No, bad Xander, naughty thoughts later." He turned to the Starling sibling. "Can we table this? I got a zombie boat captain to catch."

Xander ignored the amused look Cordelia gave him as he snagged the ship with his impromptu grappling arrow. As the rope went taut, it dragged him into the air.

"See you later, Mister Shop Teacher!" the oldest Starling daughter called up at him.

Xander's last sight of Cordelia was the hungry look on the sniper's face.

She looked like a cat that had been seconds away from snagging a fat and juicy canary.

"I'm sorry, did you just fly out a window rather than stay with a hot girl?" Little Xander gaped.

"Yes, I did." Xander answered his rebellious libido as he climbed the rope towards the ship's deck.

"This is the woman who made Dean Winchester cry for mercy. Dean Winchester! You know you wanna go there!"

"My response to that is… **that's** the woman who made Dean Winchester cry, and beg for mercy. We can do crazy, but I don't do **that** much crazy."

8  
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**Pirates of the Jerkoff-ian**

Xander landed on the Viking ship's deck as its cadaverous captain was in a full-blown monologue.

"I'm going to use your face to make a hat! I'll use your spine as a back-scratcher!" the zombie Viking screamed.

"Ideas?" Juliet shouted.

Vikke took a swing at her. Xander felt the air almost sizzle with the power of the Viking Lord's blows.

"Don't let him hit you." Xander replied.

"Any more helpful hints?" Nick snarled.

Vikke suddenly rushed Juliet, slamming her against the railing. The Zombie backhanded her and she hit the deck hard,

"Yeah, try not to let your boyfriend's bitching distract you!" Xander shot back wryly.

Juliet hauled herself up from the deck as Xander rained weapons fire on the Viking.

"Yumil!" Vikke screamed, "Let's cut this bitch and her friends into bite-sized chum!"

Suddenly Vikke's cape came to snarling life, its attached bear's head snapping and roaring as it attacked Juliet and Xander.

Xander took cover, firing crossbow bolts at the flying head and driving it away from himself and the chainsaw-wielding cheerleader.

Juliet fought back, using her speed and agility to great advantage against the slower-moving Vikke.

"That's it, Juliet, wear him down!" Nick shouted.

Vikke finally let down his guard when Xander managed to pelt Yumil with crossbow bolts, trying to rush to his pet's aid. Juliet took the opportunity to rush in and sawed the Viking Warrior wannabe in half with her chainsaw.

"You did it, Juliet!" Nick exclaimed. "I knew you could take out that loudmouth!"

Xander eyed Vikke's body, cut in half at the waist. "I'm not sure he's gone," he observed. "Where are the glowy lights and the old-timey Latin?"

"Maybe that's just that one Zed guy." Nick answered

Juliet shook her head. "Morikawa-_sensei_ said the other dorky pervy guys would be more powerful."

"Dark Purveyors!" Nick and Xander chorused in irritated unison.

"Whatever," Juliet snapped. "It's not dead. Not yet anyway."

Proving her right, Vikke's head rose up and absorbed the rest of his undead corpse to make itself bigger and stronger.

"I'll get in close!" Juliet exclaimed. "Xander, hang back and hit him from a distance. Nick, stick with me; I'll need an extra set of eyes in case that douchebag tries anything."

With that, the gang attacked Vikke, and Xander was shocked.

Juliet might seem like a bubble-head, but she had a sharp tactical mind mixed in with all that fluff.

A small squad of zombies did try to sneak up on them. Nick's shouting alerted them to incoming threats, letting Xander bring the hurt by pinning down anything that moved. Including an impressive barrage of quarrels that nailed Yumil's decapitated head to the ship's deck.

Once Vikke got distracted by his pet's gate, Juliet got in close and sawed for all she was worth, cutting down the zombie warrior's gigantic floating head with a Glasgow smile and a quick scalping

"Impossible!" he screamed. "I can't be beaten by a little girl! I'm a warrior!"

Vikke's body dropped to the deck as spectral fire exploded from the body, and Xander quickly whipped out his phone.

"Meus vita, Rege, pro nefario coepto!" Vikke whispered the words as his dismembered head burned away.

"What's he saying?" Juliet asked.

Xander started, having forgotten that she was there. "My life, O King, for your evil plan…" he muttered speculatively. "It's a phrase of sacrifice, sacrifice of all the power he gathered…" Then he looked up at nothing in particularly, horrified at what he suddenly realized. "All of the zombies he turned."

"What's that mean?" Nick chimed in.

"It means… the longer it takes us to reach each Dark Purveyor, the stronger it'll be when we finally face it." Xander sighed wearily. "But if we manage to kill it…"

"…which isn't exactly a walk in the park," Nick observed wryly.

Xander nodded. "Right, and it'll have more power to give to whatever Swan's endgame is."

"That bites my nonexistent balls," Nick groaned. "Then we're on the clock,"

Juliet nodded. "We have to kill the rest of those dark pervy dudes and fast."

"I just wish we knew why Swan needed all that power. What's he want it for?" Xander sighed.

Suddenly the ship deck lurched, and Xander could feel his stomach feel as though it was plummeting. "Better question," Nick groaned, "How do we get off this ship before it crashes?!"

The ship was indeed listing at a terrifying angle.

"Head for the back!" Juliet yelled. "We can ride out the crash and leap for safety."

"Quick thinking, Jules!" Xander shouted as they made a break for the ship's prow.

"Yeah, good thing I've seen _Titanic_ like a million times." Juliet chimed in.

Xander didn't know what scared him more at that moment; that their lives depended on a girl who drew tactical inspiration from cheesy tearjerkers, or that the plan was just crazy enough to be a good one.

The group ran for the dubious safety of the end of the ship. They scrambled over the railing of the giant Viking ship as it crashed stern-first into the ground.

"If we live through this, I'm totally taking back… most of the things I've said about _Titanic_! " Xander shouted.

"We live through this, I might actually **SEE** _Titanic_!" Nick yelled back.

Then the ship began to break up around them and the three of them were too busy yelling in fright for Xander to make a crack about _Bridget Jones' Diary_ that he'd thought up at that moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: My Heart Will Go On**

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_Xander was having a very strange dream._

_Juliet, wearing only a pineapple-shaped diamond necklace, was lounging in the backseat of an old fashioned town car __with__ Nick's decapitated head in the driver's seat. _

"_Paint me like your French girls." Juliet cooed._

_Suddenly, __ Buffy and Willow were there, dressed up as San Romero High cheerleaders._

"_Naughty, naughty…" Buffy chided him, a hefty-looking chainsaw in hand__. She tugged the pull cord and the chainsaw roared into life._

"_You'll have to be punished," Willow chuckled with evil glee. She had a pair of gardening shears in hand, the razor sharp blades gleaming__._

_With a predatory leer on their faces, his friends closed in on him._

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When Xander snapped awake, Juliet and Nick were looking down on him.

"You're gonna be okay!" Juliet gushed, nearly bowling him over with an over-enthusiastic hug.

Xander chuckled in spite of himself, hesitantly returning the favor. "You had some doubt?"

"Well, when you fell on that pitchfork…" she admitted sheepishly.

"Pitchfork?" Xander looked around and noticed a pitchfork stuck in a haystack, prongs pointing skyward.

"I landed on that?!" he all but squawked.

"Well… not **on** it," Juliet explained lamely. "More like just to the side."

"It ripped up your shirt." Nick supplied flatly.

Xander looked at the ruined remains of his shirt before shrugging and discarding the thing.

He heard a sharp wolf whistle.

"Look, Julie, I'm flattered, really," he started, falling over himself trying to explain. "But, see, I've got this rule about…" he faltered as he turned around. Nick had made that wolf-whistle, showing appreciation for the outfit Juliet was wearing.

He took in the tank top and daisy dukes combo that Juliet was now wearing, openly staring.

"Now there's a look that'll put steam in a man's stride." Little Xander hissed.

"What, uh… what happened to your clothes?" he finally managed to ask after staring at her for about a minute.

Juliet looked up at him, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Well… between the fighting and falling? My uniform kinda died," she said lamely.

Xander couldn't find a better reply than, "Oh."

"You were saying something about a rule?" Nick prodded, butting into the uneasy tension of the very awk-weird conversation.

"Less a rule than a guideline," Xander muttered. "More of a strongly-worded suggestion, really."

"You're starting to drool," the decapitated jock noted snidely.

Xander closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and pictured in graphic detail what Buffy and Willow would do to him if he misbehaved.

When he opened them again, something about young Nick's annoying smirk aggravated him.

"Nick, there a special level of Hell reserved for the most evil and depraved beings." Xander said finally. "Mostly TV network executives, people who talk in movies, and guys who take advantage of impressionable eighteen-year old girls."

"So… you never think about… you know, funny stuff?" Juliet asked leadingly."...ever?"

"Oh, I think about it." Xander snorted. "Then I remember that I know at least four women who've done nasty things to a guy's naughty man-parts for trying to pull half the stunts that the average teenage **boy** thinks of."

Juliet snickered while the bodiless Nick shot a murderous glare at Xander that the Scooby blithely ignored.

Looking around, he noticed San Romero High off in the distance and frowned. "Where are we, exactly?" he asked.

"O'Bannon's Farm, it's just off campus." Nick answered.

The farm had a disturbingly quiet air to it that sent a far-too familiar chill down Xander's spine.

"Where exactly did you find clothes on an abandoned farm?"

"In the barn." Juliet shrugged. "I think Old Man O'Bannon has kids in school or something."

"Or something?" Xander parroted slowly, his hackles rising with his suspicions.

"He has like a **ton** of school uniforms." Juliet shrugged. "Well, most of them look like school uniforms."

"The kind with the short skirts, right?"

Juliet nodded eagerly. "Or maybe he's a theme park mascot," she mused. "That would so explain the costumes."

"Is there a Mrs. O'Bannon?" Xander suddenly asked.

Juliet shrugged at the non-sequitur question. "Not that I know of."

"So… you guys find an old man's barn… who's unmarried by the way, and it's filled with schoolgirl and cosplay outfits… and your first thought is theme park mascot?"

"Why? You think it's a big deal?"Juliet asked.

Xander looked at the two of them and remembered a young teenager in a California seaside town who thought nothing of the town's abnormally high amount of graveyards and homicides.

He remembered how often he missed that naive kid.

"You know what?" he said finally. "It's probably nothing."

Xander looked through the old farmer's eclectic collection, dismissing stuff like the white bunny costume and the pink motorcycle riding suit. He couldn't think of any possible incident that would require an old farmer like O'Bannon to wear the stuff; the ideas were too disturbing to contemplate. As it was, he'd just as soon not think about the possibility of the old farmer being a transvestite, a costume fetishist, or a veteran serial killer with a wide-encompassing MO.

"I **so** don't want to know what he needs these for. " Xander murmured.

"What about for the cheerleader?" An annoying inner voice whined. "It would be for tactical purposes."

Juliet unwittingly picked that moment to test her primary weapon to make sure it was running smoothly.

The chainsaw's animalistic roar did more for Xander in that moment then a year's worth of cold showers could've ever managed. Hell, that sound alone was better than a cold shower.

His mind back on the task at hand, he looked in a mirror and caught sight of marks running down his back; thin red scratches marking where the pitchfork had come close to skewering him.

"Wow, looks like my heart really will go on." Xander snickered.

Juliet heard his joke. "You said if we survived, you'd stop trash-talking _Titanic_," she pouted.

Xander shrugged. "I'm a guy," he replied, "I say a lot of things whenever imminent and painful death or sex is a possibility."

The stubborn set of her pretty mouth warned of a possible rant so Xander conceded her point.

"Fine, I hereby and forthwith do recant, retract, and/or apologize for all the bad things that I've ever said about _Titanic_," he waved away her concerns dismissively.

"Are we sure we're gonna live long enough to see this movie?" Nick snapped. "Or **any** movie, for that matter?"

"Omigod, Nick!" Juliet squealed. "We could totally snuggle up on the couch and watch it together! I'd get all teary 'cuz it's all romantic and sad and everything and I'd so cuddle into your lap and put my head on your big, muscly…" Then she trailed off, uncertain of how to finish that sentence.

"Cranium?" Xander offered offhand.

"You had to go there, didn't you?" Nick deadpanned. "You just **had** to go there."

"I'm a weak man, Nick," Xander shrugged. "So, yes, I'm gonna be going there. I'm gonna go there a lot."

Finally, Xander found a shirt that fit him. Granted, it was missing a sleeve, but now he could take on this army of the evil dead in style. The shirt made him feel… groovy.

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Xander looked at his crossbow critically.

He tried the trigger a few times but the weapon hadn't faired well during the plunge from the Viking ship. In hindsight, a little stress testing of the weapon might've been a good idea but he and Andrew had been so eager to get the mechanical crossbow working, deliberately trying to break the thing had seemed almost criminal.

"What are you going to do now?" Nick asked from the comfort of Juliet's hip holster.

Xander looked around, it was a typical farm. Self sufficient to fault. OBannion even had his own workshop.

"The thing is you've got the close quarters thing covered. What we need is a ranged weapon." He said thoughtfully, "what we need is...over there." He pointed. .

Xander pointed emphatically at a storage shed and the NRA decal stuck to the door.

"OBannion is fan of his second amendment rights. Which means his weapons locker must be...in here."

The shelter was padlocked but Xander found a hammer that made short work of the lock. He opened the shed to reveal a cache of weaponry.

"Thank God for right-wing paranoid gun freaks. " Xander sneered.

He trailed his hands lovingly across the various guns until he found one he liked.

He took OBannion's own chainsaw setting both on the nearby work bench next to an Acetylene torch.

"With this blowtorch, I thee wed." He muttered and fell to work.

"Are you allowed to do that to a shotgun? "Nick asked

"Strictly speaking no, " Xander answered, "modifying a weapon like this is illegal in a couple of states...including California."

"...And that's not bothering you?"

"If anyone is still alive after today they're welcome to try and arrest me."

It was an unholy marriage of parts. Quickly finishing his project. He inspected his new improved weapon, as powerful as a shotgun but far more accurate and deadly.

Xander heard moaning outside and hefted the weapon carrying it outside.

Juliet watched as he calmly gunned down several zombies in quick succession.

Xander dramatically blew smoke away from the barrel.

"Groovy. "

Juliet and Nick looked at him mystified.

"Groovy... Ash...Evil Dead? "

Nick whispered, "I think its an old timey movie."

Xander blinked then threw up his hands and stomped off complaining about "kids having no respect for the classics."

"How long are we going to keep messing with him?" Juliet asked.

"Till it stops being funny." Nick chuckled.

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**Rosalind Starling**

Fuckballs my sister is like the biggest skank ever.

She's already totally doing that yummy jock Nick Carlyle. Now she's got Mister Harris too

He looks totally yum with the eyepatch and his totally intense look.

Ok so maybe Juliet isn't doing them but I've read her diary and if dad knew all super creepy stuff she talks about doing in there, he'd totally lock her up and throw away the key.

I mean what the hell is a San Romero Piggyback?

Anyway pirate teacher guy totally gets up in the zombie douche-bags faces.

I got this coolass bus I'm tooling around in. I figure large heavy object moving at hi-speed equals dead zombies...or more dead anyway. Deader then they are...whatever.

Juliet is being a total pill, moaning about my driving. my fault the steering on the bus is so fucked up.

Mister Harris totally gets with my awesome strategy of bum rushing the screwheads. He fights them from the roof which was totally my strategy.

Dude is way less lame them some boring old jock. If he wasn't so hung up on Juliet ... or so ancient. I mean he's like almost thirty isn't he?

I just hope he's not into Cordy; she **is** a total skank.

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Xander shuddered with exhaustion as he watched Rosalind go driving off cackling like a demented monkey.

"Are you all right?" Juliet asked

"What made you think riding on the outside of the bus was a good idea?" Nick asked.

"Insanity" Xander puffed. "Jules no offence but your sister is crazy and needs to seriously cut down on the Red Bulls."

"I told you she can't drive for shit. "Juliet replied with a shrug.

.

"Your sisters do seem a little...energetic. " Nick conceded.

"I've seen humming birds with less energy."Xander snorted.

"She's harmless," Juliet protested. "Though I'm not sure how she got the DMV to give her a license."

"Gratitude at **surviving** the drivers test maybe?" Nick suggested.

Xander suppressed his urge to laugh as Juliet managed to shoot Nick a you're-so-in-trouble-when-we-get-home look.

"Come on we'd better go after that bus before Rosalind crashes and hurts herself.." Juliet announced.

"...Or someone else." Xander snickered.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Who's Your Daddy?**

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The next Dark Purveyor, a hippie calling herself Mariska, was one of those 'now you see me, and now you don't' types. She had some really creepy illusion mojo and used it to mess with their heads.

Well, that, and kidnapping Rosalind (about which Juliet had freaked out over), but Xander had done the hostage thing from both sides. So he knew how to calm her down and keep her focused… which turned out to be useful.

Besides, if Rosalind was under lock and key with the bad guys, then she wasn't driving. Which was definitely a win-win in Xander's book.

"Ah, sister Juliet… and brothers Nicholas and Alexander," the zombie drawled, a languorous murmur that probably would've been sexually charging if she had still been alive.

"Let's travel to the land beyond the Doors of Perception…" she murmured. "Step outside the boundaries of your mind, lose yourself in the eternal collective unconscious… and rot."

"How about you take a bath, skank-zilla! You smell like shit!" Juliet snapped.

Xander sniffed the air. "Ah, Julie, that's drugs, not B.O."

"Let's open our minds to the possibilities and our hearts to the dark needs we all share," Mariska sang.

"Oh, you did **not** just hit on my man in front of me, bitch!" Juliet snarled, starting up her chainsaw.

Nick couldn't quite see what possible interest the female zombie might have in him.

Juliet, on the other hand, apparently had no such difficulty.

She tossed Nick's head to Xander while revving her chainsaw up to speed and flew at Mariska.

"I'm not sure the zombie was hitting on me." Nick commented.

"Probably not," Xander nodded.

"Shouldn't we DO something?" Nick asked, watching Juliet slash away at the strange bubbles being thrown at her.

"Nick, two girls are fighting in front of you, one of whom is your girlfriend." Xander said absently, shooting one of the bubbles with his ridiculously illegal shotgun. "Take it from me, watching them fight is **exactly** what we should be doing right now."

"But shouldn't we help her? Nick mused.

Mariska then took the opportunity to conjure up a giant hand from somewhere, the huge crawling thing racing after Juliet and sending her flying with a single slap.

Xander sighed, distracting Mariska with some blasts from his Holy Boomstick (as he called his new creation). "Yeah, I suppose we should."

Xander adjusted his hold on Nick's head. Rearing back, he asked, "You ready?"

"At least you **ask** before throwing me around," the bodiless jock sighed.

"Your girlfriend doesn't **HAVE** to ask to use your head as a ballistic missile; it's a relationship thing. You'll get used to it." Xander shrugged. "Now… are you ready?"

"Always!" Nick shouted, psyching himself up.

Xander hurled the decapitated head at Mariska. The beheaded senior ricocheted off the zombie's head, stunning her long enough for Juliet to ram her chainsaw into Mariska's skull and cutting whole body in half rather quickly.

"Stick that in your collective unconscious!" Juliet yelled crossly.

"Ahh, yeah, sister Juliet, let your dark passions guide you…" Mariska moaned. "One truth… becomes **TWO**!"

…and her severed body cloned itself.

"Well, that's different," Xander deadpanned.

"…two truths become **FOUR**!" The twin zombies tore themselves in half, creating new clones of themselves. Just like that, the group was badly outnumbered.

"This is **NOT** good." Xander groaned, his Holy Boomstick already blasting away quite merrily.

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The fight dragged on, with Mariska spouting New Age jibber-jabber about death, free thoughts, and free love.

That last bit was infuriating to Juliet. Well, that and the stench wafting from the zombie; which the cheerleader was certain was rot and decay.

She'd used Nick's head to distract the zombie (or one of her clones; Xander had lost track a while ago) again, and the decapitated jock was feeling uncertain of himself.

"Juliet, I'm not sure I can do this… just being a head, I mean." Nick started off after Juliet retrieved him from his latest assisted kill.

"But there's a lot of cool things about being a head!" she pouted. " I could put you in a bag and sneak you into movies **FOR FREE**!"

"That hardly makes up for-" Nick started but the cheerleader was on one of her perky rolls.

"Carpal tunnel syndrome? You're immune… **AND** it's totally **COOL**! I'm, like, the only girl with a decapitated head for a boyfriend!"

"Nick, I think you're selling yourself short," Xander tried to explain, not wanting to ruin the jock's delusions about just how much sick stuff a guy could find on the Internet when he didn't look where he was going.

His Holy Boomstick bellowed as it spat out rifled slugs that battered away at the psychedelic display around them. "You've still got a lot to offer a girl, especially a girl like Juliet."

"Like what, scintillating conversation?" the animated head snapped.

"Hey, don't knock it. You wouldn't believe how wild the girls go for a cunning linguist." Xander quipped.

"What's a cunning linguist?" Juliet asked, absently sawing Mariska in half for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

"Someone who talks good, I guess," Nick answered, mystified.

Xander rolled his eye. Only then did he remember just how dumb the average eighteen year-old teenage boy actually was.

"Yeah, Nick, that's totally what I'm talking about." he sighed, one final blast from his new weapon smashing apart Mariska's sitar and letting the psychedelic illusion around them shatter like breaking glass.

As Josey's auto-tuned voice warbled from Juliet's phone, his own phone rang. A quick inspection later, and he answered it. "Hey, Willow."

"Xander, we've got a big problem."

Oh, boy. When she was all no-nonsense, things were getting ugly in the land of Xander. But as the Scooby Gang's resident smartass, he had a reputation to protect.

"You mean, worse than zombies with an eighties funk music fetish?" he quipped.

"Riley just called." With those words, his grin died. "The California National Guard's managed to contain the zombies to the San Romero city limits for the moment, but they're running low on ammo. The Joint Chiefs want to carpet-bomb the city with conventional explosives, but he's managed to persuade them to wait until sunset."

"What?!" Xander freaked. "But that's only…" a quick check later, "…two hours from now!"

"You have until 6:30 to get out of San Romero before the bombers and the artillery let loose, and then the U.S. military's gonna do their best to flatten the whole city and wipe it off the map."

"Look, I've got a ton of survivors holed up at San Romero High, but there's no way I can get 'em all out of town in two hours!" he sputtered.

"Xander, we can't save everyone, you know that," she reproached him sharply.

He hated it when she reminded him of a lesson that he himself had rammed into the collective heads of the new Watcher's Council. "I'm not leaving Juliet in the lurch."

"Fine, bring her with you," she shrugged. "Bring the whole damn family if you want."

"Can't. They took her younger sister, Rosalind, so we're on our way to some place called the Fulci Fun Center to rescue her. Our next Dark Purveyor's holed up inside."

"…and you know this, **how**, exactly?" Willow asked archly.

"He just called and told us where to find him and Rosalind."

"Called you?" Willow snorted. "Xander, the only way that could be any more obvious a trap would be to add flashing neon and a brass band."

"After what I've seen today, I wouldn't be surprised," he rolled his eye. "This is her sister, Willow. If it was Dawn, what would General Buffy do? What would you do?"

"**I** wouldn't be wasting time **YOU** don't have, trying to guilt-trip me."

"Thanks, Willow, you're a godsend," he said dryly. "Seriously, though, buy me as much time as you can." Before she could say anything else, he hung up on her.

Noticing the grave look on his face, Juliet frowned. "What's wrong, Xander?"

"You know that feeling you get when the big game's on the same day as that big test?"

"You mean the test in the class that you've been tanking all semester?" Juliet sighed.

"…and the game's one you have to win or else you're gonna be eliminated?" Nick added.

"Yup." Xander nodded. "Now's a good time to have that feeling."

"Then this might be a bad time to introduce my dad," she said sheepishly, looking at something behind him. "Daddy, this is Xander. He's our substitute Shop teacher. Xander, that's my father, Gideon Starling."

Xander turned around and found himself looking up. And up… and up… straight into the burning gaze of a bear of a man who looked like Elvis after he'd hit the gym really, **really** hard for a while.

"Ahh, where did th- you… come from?" Xander asked, still trying to figure out how someone **THAT** big could move that quickly or quietly.

Juliet tapped his shoulder, getting his attention, before pointing at the finely-tuned Harley Davidson purring quietly beneath the man.

"Daddy caught up to us on his motorcycle," she explained somewhat parenthetically.

Xander blinked. "Juliet, that's not a motorcycle, it's a work of art."

The look on Nick's face said that he'd be nodding in agreement… assuming that options like nodding were still available to him.

"So…" his voice was a deep tenor with a Southern accent. "You wanna explain why a bunch of GI Joes are fixin' to blow my hometown to Hell and back?"

"You heard all that, did ya?"

Gideon Starling nodded simply.

"Christ." Xander swore, resisting the urge to throw his phone away.

8

9

8

Xander's sudden meeting with the Starling clan patriarch was interesting, to say the least. After enjoying Nick's painful introduction, during which the bodiless jock managed to conjure a foot out of thin air that he could shove in his mouth, Gideon turned his attention back to Xander.

"So what's a shop teacher doing, hangin' 'round my little girl?"

"Nothing. Less than nothing," Xander shrugged. Given the way Gideon Starling's glare seemed to try and burn a hole through his skull, he must have answered the man a little too quickly.

"Xander's a Watcher, daddy."

"Not sure I like the idea of some guy hangin' around you when he runs around tellin' people he's a peeper."

"I'm not a peeper; I'm a Watcher, as in-"

"I know **WHAT** they are, junior." Gideon waved him off. "…and if you think you're draggin' my little girl off to fight vampires all on her lonesome, then you've got another thing comin'."

"He's friends with the Winchesters, daddy." Juliet chimed in, trying to help. Xander had been nothing but helpful, and being easy on the eyes certainly didn't hurt.

"The Winchesters?!" Papa Starling exploded. "Like that little pissant Dean who defiled my delicate little flower, and you're his friend?!"

Xander paused and looked to Juliet, who just shrugged. "He means Cordelia."

That answer made him blink hard. Gun-toting Amazon woman Cordelia Starling, a delicate flower?

For once in his life, Xander **didn't** say the first thing that came into his head.

To judge by Papa Starling, that saved his life.

Apparently, Gideon Starling had a lot in common with the late Joyce Summers.

If knowing Joyce had taught Xander anything, it was that the only thing that parents like Gideon and Joyce were more protective of than their kids, were the blind spots **concerning** their kids.

"What happened to that reprobate father of theirs? John, wasn't it?"

"Dead, or so I heard." Xander shrugged. "Or, at least, he might be dead. I heard something about him being stuck in Hell, but Sam was talking kinda fast and I wasn't exactly following the whole conversation in the first place."

"Now that's a damn shame. I remember, one time, me and John did a bachelor party roadtrip down to El Rey in Mexico. There was this nice little place just over the border, at a place called the Titty Twirler, or something…"

"You mean the Titty Twister?" Xander asked absently, before realizing who he was talking to.

"So you've been to the Titty Twister, eh?" Gideon peered at Xander suspiciously, as the one-eyed younger man suddenly grew a twitch in his right eye as some **particularly** unpleasant memories suddenly threatened to take him. He was saved by the sound of exaggerated gagging.

Juliet to the rescue. "Daddy, please!" she wailed. "Old people doing funny stuff is, like, so **eww**."

Gideon dropped the subject, which Xander appreciated. He'd sworn on a stack of Bibles to never talk about what exactly had happened to him in that little border town of El Rey.

Somewhat painful, incredibly embarrassing, and his strange luck with women (who turned out to be murderous demons) had been doing some **real** overtime.

If Buffy and Willow ever found out, they'd never let him hear the end of it.

They'd also probably never let him see daylight again.

…to say nothing of what Dawn would have to say about it.

The girls could be extremely overprotective from time-to-time.

Of course, Faith would just be laughing about the whole incident. It'd been **that** embarrassing.

Idly, he wondered what Giles would've said about the matter.

From that point on, however, Xander was certain that daddy Starling was watching him with a gimlet eye as they made their way to the Fulci Fun Center.

Nick complained about the creepy feeling later on, so maybe it was just his imagination.

Either that, or Gideon Starling possessed some kind of weird and creepy dad magic.


	6. Chapter 6

The Best-Laid Plans…

8

9

8

The Fulci Fun Centre was a God-awful architectural monstrosity designed to resemble a giant coin-op video game console from the Eighties.

Xander fell in love with it right away. It reminded him of simpler times, of Atari and SuperNES.

Their mission was clear: get to Rosalind, get her free, and punch Josey's ticket along the way.

Juliet quickly came up with a fairly decent plan. While the rest of the team went full frontal on the bad guys, Papa Starling would sneak in through the back door.

Gideon Starling proudly (and tearfully) submitted to his "little tactical genius" before turning on the rest of their ragtag little bunch.

"You best watch what you do with my little girl while you're hiding the shadows," Gideon hissed at Nick before turning to Xander. "That goes double for you, Watcher Man."

The boys watched in muted terror as the burly Papa Starling scaled the building by fire escape.

"I think he really liked you. Both of you," Juliet observed cheerfully.

"I don't know about Nicky-boy, but If that man LIKES me, then I'd like to see what he'd do if he hated me." Xander grunted.

"No, you wouldn't," Juliet shrugged. "You really wouldn't."

"Shouldn't we be worrying more about the army on our doorstep ready to go defcon one on our ass?" Nick asked.

Xander shook his head. "Nick, if you're gonna play in the big leagues, then you gotta learn how to prioritize. We can't do squat about the army, so we ignore it. For now."

"…and concentrate on Swan and the rest of the Dark Purveyors." Juliet finished.

"Dark Purveyors!" Nick and Xander automatically chorused.

Juliet blinked. "I know," she said defensively. "That's what I said."

"Oh," Xander observed. Then he shrugged. "Sorry, force of habit."

The trio battled their way upstairs through an army of undead.

As he blasted the undead hordes away with his Holy Boomstick, Xander had to give Juliet credit; her almost-pathological need to be cheery and upbeat made it fun to follow her if nothing else.

…not that she didn't have her issues; as seen when a lurching undead fiend lumbered towards her.

"Juliet, two o'clock!" Xander shouted, quickly blasting off another zombie's head as she swung around quickly eviscerating the zombie with a single slash.

"Wow, I think that was our math teacher," Nick observed.

Juliet shrugged. "Guess we don't have to worry about tomorrow's calculus test," she replied.

Xander grimaced. Dear God, he was getting old. There was a time when he'd have rejoiced at the thought of a dead calculus teacher.

Of course, that was before Miss Calendar had been killed.

"It's good that you guys can find the upside of a local zombie apocalypse." Xander dryly commented.

Juliet pouted. "I knew these people and they'd totally want us to move on with our lives."

"Not those guys at your five," Nick quipped. "They'd be totally trying to look up your skirt."

"Pervy douchebags," Juliet snarled, revving up her chainsaw and lunging at them.

Even as she drove them back, several more surrounded her, lurching towards her from all sides.

Xander watched mutely, absently picking off zombies that approached him, as Juliet wrapped herself around a pole and used it to anchor herself as she swung around and around to cut down the group of fiends menacing her.

"That's, uh… stripper-robics, isn't it?" he asked her finally, after she'd dismembered the attacking zombies and bounced back to him, still covered in blood.

"It was Sensei Morikawa's idea," Juliet chirped. "It's a total body workout."

Xander didn't know if he hated the old perv for taking advantage of Juliet, or admire the creep for still managing to teach her so much in spite of being a raging lech. It helped that she seemed rather naïve. Either that, or she'd just needed to have the obvious pointed out to her.

"You're, ah... pretty good at that," he said finally.

"You mean it?" Juliet gushed. "When I practice this alone in my room, I do it naked for less wind resistance!"

Xander gaped. "I, uh… I don't know how to respond to that."

"I do it for the exercise! Really!" she chirped helpfully.

Xander grimaced. " Morikawa liked you to videotape your workouts, didn't he?"

Juliet snorted, as if he'd said something stupidly obvious. "How else was he supposed to make sure I was doing it right?"

"Oh Honey..." Xander sighed.

Xander closed his eye, trying to banish the images playing through his all-too vivid imagination.

Nick smirked. "You're drooling again."

"Am I?" Xander shot back dryly. "I hadn't noticed."

Juliet ran at another group of zombies, attacking them with her… unique style, having left Nick in Xander's hands.

"Hey, zombies, put a dollar in my skirt and I won't kill you," she sang.

A quick Highlander pirouette later, and she added, "Ha ha! Just kidding! I'd kill you anyway!"

"Remember; special Hell," Nick taunted as Juliet cackled, off in the distance.

Xander snorted. "You must be pissing yourself at how funny this is," he sneered at the disembodied jock. "Oh, wait. You can't."

"How long you been holding onto that one?" Nick deadpanned.

"Since the farm," Xander shrugged.

Nick had to admit it; he'd been had there. "Timing's everything."

8

9

8

Rupert Giles stood in the middle of the Slayer's Nerve Center, and it was the Nerve Center.

No matter how much Xander and Andrew tried to redub the room The Slayer Cave, much to their combined chagrin.

He had a team of Slayers manning the room, those whose talents lay more in the realm of tactical analysis rather than kicking demon ass. Normally, they'd be answering to Xander, but since he was in the middle of the San Romero mess, Giles had felt obligated to step up and do his part to see Xander safely home.

Right now, he and the teams were using the Nerve Center's banks of screens and monitors to scan all incoming information about the current crisis in San Romero.

At the moment, they were tracking the deployment of military forces around the Greater San Romero area.

Several Slayers were gathered around a monitor on which a grainy video played in an endless loop. Showing a chainsaw wielding blonde attacking a zombie wearing a horrendously gaudy combination of top hat, furs, and the worst parts of American fashion of the last fifty years, this video was the latest footage from Xander.

Giles sighed in spite of himself. Not for the first time during this case did he wonder if the universe was messing with them.

Vikings, punk rockers, a female hippie zombie quoting New Age philosophy… this was almost like someone out there was trying to mock them.

He cleared his throat and the girls looked up.

"Make sure you compare that video against the others we have, and make sure that Archives has a copy as well."

One of the girls raised her hand. "Uh, Mister Giles? What exactly are we looking for?"

Giles sighed. "I know how much you all hate it when we say things like this, but… I'll know it when I see it."

The girls groaned. This was normal for them, meaning a long and sleepless night that involved looking up stuff in old books or in the computer archives that Willow was continuously filling up for better indexing and faster reference.

"If it helps, I'm fairly certain that we're looking for something in American historical records, early colonial era. I don't how the Latin fits into all this, but…" he shrugged, taking off his glasses and polishing the lenses nervously.

The girls brightened. Now their search would only take hours instead of days.

Not that they had hours. Riley had been blunt. The President wanted San Romero contained, and had tasked elements of the NSA with systematically patrolling all of the town's Internet traffic so that no information concerning its zombie infestation could be leaked to the public.

The loss of Sunnydale had more consequences than anything the Scoobies had anticipated.

Since nobody had thought to inform Riley about the First Evil's plans in Sunnydale so that he could pass it on to his superiors as an advanced warning, the town's sudden collapse had come as a very rude awakening for the Joint Chiefs of Staff and America's intelligence apparatus.

In the aftermath of the Sunnydale collapse, Riley had found himself briefing the Joint Chiefs, and certain Senators and Congressmen, on the existence of the supernatural.

Amidst great protest, Xander had joined him as the Scooby Gang's liaison at this hearing panel, and nobody knew whether his presence had hurt or helped their stance with the American government.

But even with Buffy's unilateral decision to alienate official governments because of what she saw as their amateurish experience with the supernatural, the mortal Powers-that-Be were no longer content to stay on the sidelines.

Especially when registered voters with long memories were in harm's way.

The downside of this enlightened worldview was the fact that militaries, in general, liked having a nice, clear enemy to point their collective guns at.

Buffy Summers and the Slayers made for a photogenic enemy threat. Especially since certain extremist elements regarded her behavior and career history as enough to label her a traitor to mankind, particularly where her choices in romance and relationships were concerned.

A gang of miscreants with strange superpowers and mysterious knowledge (that they would not disclose) made for an easy target.

As if called by his thoughts, Buffy entered the Situation Room. She was dressed in her work clothes, complete with a utility belt loaded with her favorite bladed and stabbing weapons slung over her shoulder and the Scythe in hand.

"What's the good word, Giles? I got a bunch of Slayers ready to rock and roll. You do not want a bunch of girls all dressed up with no place to go on your hands."

"Xander just sent us another video. Same Latin phrasing about dark works and whatnot," the older Watcher said, having long since grown inured to Buffy's penchant for malapropisms.

Buffy sighed. "Again with the dark works and evil doing. Can't these guys get a hobby?"

"My understanding is that Mister Swan had been bullied rather extensively and that plunging the city into a local zombie apocalypse is his form of revenge." Giles shot back dryly.

Buffy shuddered. "Well, it's good that he's found a HEALTHY outlet for his rage," she quipped sardonically. "We sure wouldn't want him to bottle it up inside and end up doing something crazy, now would we?"

Giles smiled grimly. School shooting rampages and publicized suicides aside, this was one topic that hit home for the Scooby Gang's veteran members. "I can assure you that I sympathize with your point, Buffy, but not everyone's had an easy time of it in school."

"Giles, I had days where it took all I had not to lay a Slayer-powered beating on someone. Usually Cordelia."

Giles rolled his eyes. "Pedantics aside, Willow felt much the same way."

"Sometimes growing up means learning to let go of things."

Giles looked back at the strong, confident woman next to him. Since when had the flighty girl he'd met years ago grown up? He'd have liked to see it happen...

"Ooh, is that the cheerleader?" Buffy had noticed Juliet Starling in action on a video monitor. "I love that belt. Giles, remind me to get one of those belts while we're in San Romero?"

Then again, the world would be awfully dull without the flighty and vacuous girl whose biggest worry in life was if she'd find shoes to match the belt that she didn't even own yet.

One of the girls approached them, tentatively holding out a sheet of paper.

"I think I've found what you're looking for, Mister Giles." The girl, who Giles was certain her name was Rachel, said. "A Franciscan monk who was living with Chumash tribesmen to learn their ways and customs wrote about the tribe that lived where Sunnydale… well, where it used to be."

Giles quickly scanned its contents. Looking back up at her, he demanded, "How sure are you?"

"The monk wrote an account of the tribe's medicine man telling a story about how five creatures called from beyond sacrificed their deaths to tear open a hole." Rachel confirmed. "Creating, or so the monk describes, a new gate to Hell."

Buffy looked at Giles, shock written all over on her face. "Seriously? This Marilyn Manson-lookalike douchenozzle's trying to make a Hellmouth? Who's that stupid?"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Considering that his plan requires the deaths of these Dark Purveyors and that he's only one more death away? Not as stupid as we'd wish."

"We've gotta warn Xander," Buffy demanded, her Slayer team suddenly grabbing and tossing automatic crossbows (plus ammo cans) to each other from a nearby armory.

Giles just shook his head. "He'd most likely continue trying to destroy the Dark Purveyors anyway. As long as they're alive, they pose a grave threat to the human population."

"I'm done waiting, Giles! I'm going in!" Buffy snapped, ready to pummel something.

Giles sighed. "Are you quite sure of this?"

"I spent the better part of seven years stopping every dark and evil creepy-crawly that lurched their way out of my Hellmouth!" Buffy snapped, her fists clenched. "Now some idiot's going to unleash that Hell upon the world just 'cuz he got swirlied one too many times?!"

She suddenly shook her head, making a beeline for the door. "No, Giles. He's going down, and he's going down hard. And if he's done anything to Xander, I'll show this little jerkwad what real Hell is."

Giles grabbed at her arm. "Buffy, wait!" he snapped.

"I'm going, Giles, I'm not losing Xander," she snarled back.

He shook his head. "I'm not stopping you, I'm coming with you."

A long look passed between the two of them, one with a multitude of unspoken arguments made back and forth in the way that only true friends could manage. Finally, Buffy blinked and sighed.

"Fine, Giles," she huffed as he let go of her wrist, smiling slightly as he caught a crossbow that she tossed at him.

"Let's, uh… lock and load, shall we?" he quipped, amused at Buffy smiling at him.


End file.
